


falling's not the problem (when i'm falling i'm in peace)

by iwillshutup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillshutup/pseuds/iwillshutup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek lets Stiles sleep in his bed, sometimes, but he usually doesn’t. He usually gets up from the bed, finds the jeans he left on the floor and puts it on, telling Stiles that he should leave if he wants to make curfew before getting out of the bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	falling's not the problem (when i'm falling i'm in peace)

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind this is unbetaed and from a person whose first language isn't english, so sorry for everything.

Derek lets Stiles sleep in his bed, sometimes, but he usually doesn’t. He usually gets up from the bed, finds the jeans he left on the floor and puts it on, telling Stiles that he should leave if he wants to make curfew, before getting out of the bedroom. It used to hurt a lot more and Stiles used to hope that things would change, that he could change Derek. By now he just takes a deep breath, gets up and dresses himself before heading for his jeep without even trying to say goodbye.

If anyone knows, no one says anything. The sheriff corners Stiles one morning before school and tells him he doesn’t have to hide a relationship, tells him nothing is going to disappoint him more than having his son not trust him enough to tell him what’s going on in his life, that it doesn’t matter who Stiles chooses to date, he just can’t keep it a secret from his only family. Stiles rolls his eyes and tells his father that he’s not dating anyone. He wishes it wasn’t the truth. And that’s it. It’s like he’s the same person to everyone else.

He spends most of his afternoons in his bedroom, killing time with all of his textbooks spread around his bed as he reads a little of all of them. At some point he stopped caring which subject he was studying, so now he just studies all of them as if they are one. When he starts to think in ways that Shakespeare’s characters would have their lives improved with some physics knowledge, he thinks it’s time to stop pretending that this is healthy. Then he laughs a little at himself, because he can’t name one thing in his life that’s healthy in the moment.

When the sun goes away, he throws all of the books on the floor and just lies in his bed, staring at his phone. It might buzz or it might just stay immobile through the night. It always depends on Derek’s mood, it depends on if he’s doing anything, if he wants to spend his night running through the woods, or find somebody else to fuck, or go the grocery store and multi-task by buying food and scaring the life out of everybody that runs into him. Stiles doesn’t have anything else to do. And if he’s honest to himself, he’d still be waiting by the phone, even if he had.

Even now he doesn’t know why it all started. He’s got no idea what made Derek go up to him one day, click his tongue, like he was thinking to himself _yeah, maybe you’ll do_ and pull him to his bedroom without saying anything because it probably didn’t even cross his mind that Stiles could say no, that he could take one look at the bed, freak out and run the opposite direction. He did freak out. He did not leave. He blames a little of the staying part on his ridiculously low self-esteem, and he blames a lot of it on how good Derek looks when he takes his clothes off. Derek never took time to explain himself.

When the phone buzzes he doesn’t even need to read the text to know what’s in it. He does it any way. _Meet me in ten._ No question mark. Derek doesn’t go to the trouble of making it a question because they both know it’s unnecessary. There was only one time that Stiles ignored one of Derek’s texts, just to see what would happen, and it made the werewolf ignore him for two weeks. No texts, no calls, no creepy appearances out of nowhere. Nothing. And the silent treatment only stopped after Stiles spent thirteen hours in front of Derek’s door, sitting on the porch, begging in a thousand different ways to be let in. When Derek finally opened the door, at three in the morning, it was to send Stiles home, but the following night brought a new text in the teen’s phone. He counted it as a win.

He also used to freak out a lot more about the texts. He’d go insane trying to figure out what to wear or what to take with him. He doesn’t anymore. He just grabs his keys and his phone and drives straight to Derek’s and when he gets there, he doesn’t knock, he just lets himself in, leaves his hoodie in the living room with his shoes and socks and goes to Derek’s bedroom, getting aroused just by the smirk he sees in Derek’s face.

And then would come the easiest part. The one they both knew how to do – and have done – with their eyes closed and their hands tied behind their backs. Stiles smiles, takes his shirt off and throws it on the chair on the corner of the room, where he also throws his jeans and boxers a few seconds later. Derek doesn’t move, keeps it quiet while he watches Stiles climb on the bed and straddle him, then puts his hand on Stiles’ neck and pulls him into a kiss. It’s not sweet, but it’s not fast either. It’s aggressive and Derek takes his time because that’s how he is with everything.

Most of the time, Derek’s already naked when Stiles gets into bed, but not this time and they have to go through the trouble of taking Derek’s jeans off before Stiles can continue with his plans, licking Derek’s body, starting from his neck and going down and down until he reaches Derek’s cock. Stiles learned very fast that Derek loves blowjobs. He loves putting his hand on Stiles’s nape and forcing him to take more of him, having complete control of the rhythm, making broken sounds when his dick reaches Stiles’ throat. Stiles lives for the sounds Derek makes when they’re together. God knows they’re better than any words that are said.

Derek gets tired of being under Stiles after a while and changes their positions, gets on top, aligns their faces so they can kiss more and lets one hand roam around Stiles’ body while the other is on the back of Stile’s neck, holding him where he wants. Stiles gasps when Derek starts to rub his nipples a little and his breathing just gets out of control when Derek takes the lube and the condom out of the nightstand and drops the condom on Stiles’ chest. Stiles still doesn’t know if they really need the condom, with Derek being a werewolf, or if Derek only uses it so he won’t have to have a conversation about it, but by now it doesn’t really matter.

Derek’s slow, opening Stiles up like he’s got all the time in the world, ignores Stiles’ pleas to go faster, to give more, and keeps his unhurried pace. It’s not always like that. There are times when everything’s fast and painful, when Derek’s by the door when Stiles lets himself in and just pushes him into a wall and make him take everything, no prep, no warning. It seems unfair that _Meet me in ten_ can lead to scenarios that are so different. Stiles tells that to Derek sometimes, but he just gets ignored, unsurprisingly.

Derek’s finally inside of him and Stiles can’t even think coherent thoughts anymore. He knows he doesn’t shut up, he knows that he’s probably cursing and asking for more and more and more of everything. He wants it to go faster, but he also wants it to never end because he loves that part. They’re both sweating and Derek’s face is in Stiles’ neck, running his teeth down Stiles’ throat, restraining himself not to bite. He never bit Stiles. Not even once. Not even lightly. Even though Stiles can feel how much Derek wants to do it, sometimes. Stake a claim. Stiles doesn't know if he'd like it or not, but it doesn't change anything. Derek’s great at fucking, knows the exact angle that’ll make Stiles beg and the teen doesn’t even try to pretend there’s any shred of dignity left in him, anymore.

When Derek pulls out, Stiles has no idea how much time has passed. In his mind it could have been seconds or days. Derek throws the used condom in the trashcan by his bed and lies on his back, looking at the ceiling, not saying anything. Stiles is looking at Derek’s face, head on Derek’s shoulder, feeling dirty because there’s so much come on his stomach after orgasming twice, but he’d take the dirty feeling any day if it always brought this view. He bites Derek’s earlobe, says “maybe one day I’ll get you to buy me dinner before fucking me through the mattress”, says “you’re getting really good at this getting me off thing, have you been practicing?”, says “wow, you haven’t left the bed yet, can I get my hopes up that this will be one of those nights you’ll let me stay and I’ll pretend you’re my boyfriend?” and it makes his day when Derek almost cracks a smile.

Stiles feels his stomach knot when Derek gets up. He’s already expecting Derek to tell him to go home, already hearing the ‘no’ when Stiles asks for five more minutes. But when Derek starts to talk it’s to tell Stiles to get up so they can shower, tell him he’s disgusting and he’s not going to sleep in his bed like that. It makes Stiles grin because those kinds of nights? The ones in which Derek doesn’t send him home? They are the reason Stiles keeps doing it. They are the reason Stiles doesn’t try to make new friends (so he’ll have plans on some days) and doesn’t complain to Scott that he spends all his free time with his girlfriend. Those nights are everything to him.

Derek lets Stiles sleep in his bed, sometimes, but he usually doesn’t. When he does, though, when Stiles has his head resting on Derek’s chest and Derek runs his hand absentmindedly through Stiles’ hair and tells Stiles he can pretend they are anything he wants until morning, it makes all the suffering and all the times he just feels cheap just go away, like they were never there to begin with. When Stiles is lucky, there’s breakfast in the morning, but he doesn’t really think about it during those kinds of nights. He doesn’t even sleep on those nights, afraid he’ll miss something crucial. He gives the werewolf a peck on the lips and hopes he’ll feel Stiles’ smile on his chest.


End file.
